Strongly with sword, stroke he withheld not,
That fell at his feet the fated warrior;
For that did his prince give thanks to him, 120
To his bower-thane,[16] when he had opportunity.
So firmly stood the fierce-in-mind,
The youths in fight, eagerly thought
Who there with his spear might soonest be able
From a fated man the life to win, 125
A warrior with weapons: the dead to earth fell.
Steadfast they stood; strengthened them Byrhtnoth,
Bade that each youth of battle should think
He whó on the Danes glory would gain.
Went then a war-brave, his weapon uplifted, 130
His shield for defence, and strode towards the chief;
So earnest he went, the earl to the churl:
Each for the other of evil was thinking.
Sent then the seaman his spear from the south
That wounded wás the warrior's lord; 135
Then he shoved with his shield that the shaft in two broke,
And the spear was shivered; so sprang it back.
Enraged was the warrior: with his spear he thrust
The wiking proud, who the wound him gave.
Wise was the warrior; he let his spear pierce 140
Through the neck of the youth; his hand it guided
So that hé his foe of life deprived.
Then he another speedily shot,
That the byrnie burst; in breast was he wounded
Through the ringèd mail; there stood in his heart 145
The poisonous point. The earl was the gladder;
Laughed the proud man, to his Maker gave thanks